


Benny's Cats

by waterbird13



Series: Tumblr Fics [245]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adopting Cats, Cats, Domestic, M/M, lots o cats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 22:13:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8262215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterbird13/pseuds/waterbird13
Summary: Benny is a softie when it comes to cats.It's a secret, so don't tell anyone, but Sam might be too.





	1. Chapter 1

Sam, all in all, thinks he’s been pretty patient. He hasn’t kicked the things out, he’s fed them and petted them and cuddled them and even let them sleep in the bed with him and Benny. He’s been pretty good about Benny’s cats, even if cats wouldn’t necessarily be his own first choice.

It’s when the tabby has kittens that Sam puts his foot down.

“Benny, they can’t stay,” he insists, resolute. “We can’t have four kittens and three cats running around this place. We can’t.”

Benny doesn’t look up from his perch watching the mother and her babies. “But Sam…”

“No,” Sam says. “We can’t.”

Benny reaches a hand forward for the third time and this time the mother allows him to touch her babies. After a few moments of this, he scoops one up, making sure that the mother can still see the tiny, furry little thing.

Benny turns so Sam can see the kitten too. “C’mon, Sam, how can you say no to this face?” Benny asks.

It’s not much of a face, two still closed eyes and some fur, but Sam gets what Benny is saying all too well.

The kittens stay, of course. And they love Sam as much as their mother does, and Sam might love them in turn, even if he pretends that he doesn’t.


	2. Chapter 2

“Benny,” Sam says, impatient, “get the damn cats off the bed.”

Benny looks up, first at Sam and then down the bed to where the cats are starting to gather. “Hm?”

“The cats, Benny. They have perfectly good cat beds. Which they should be sleeping on. This is our bed. Not theirs.”

Benny looks back at his book. “Have a heart, Sam. Poor things are probably cold. It’s gettin’ chilly.”

“Then I’ll get them some blankets. But they all sleep all curled up together anyways, no way they’re cold. So. Get them off our bed.”

“Aw, come on, Sugar…look at those little faces. You gonna be the one that makes them move?”

Sam sighs, knowing it’s a lost cause. The cats are getting way too comfortable, knowing Benny will give them anything. It had started with just Pumpkin, the oldest, climbing into their bed, but now all seven have seen fit to make it home.

Sam wakes up the next morning with one arm around Benny, his chest pressed to Benny’s back, and a mysterious weight on his legs, a mysterious pressure against his back.

Two cats have settled on Sam’s legs, one against the warmth of his spine, one more on the half of the pillow Sam isn’t using. The other three are all over Benny.

Benny is still fast asleep, so if Sam lets go of Benny and reaches to pet the closest one on the head, no one ever has to know.


	3. Chapter 3

The cats scratch at the bedroom door.

Sam groans, and pushes a pillow over his head. He’s not sure how they magically know what time it is, considering they live in an underground bunker without windows or natural light, but they are an incredibly accurate alarm clock.

He gets out of bed, grumbling, and pulls on his running clothes. He leans over to kiss Benny’s cheek, and then leaves the room.

Each of their seven cats–and the kittens don’t really qualify as kittens anymore, almost as big as their mama, now–falls into line and follows Sam to the kitchen.

Sam sets out food in seven little bowls, makes sure the water is fresh, and then goes for his run.

When he gets back, he’s sweating furiously and in desperate need of a drink. He finds Benny in the kitchen, frying eggs, and seven little cats, still eating at suspiciously full bowls.

Sam rolls his eyes. “Benny, they’re gonna get fat if you keep giving them a second breakfast,” he says.

Benny turns to him. “They got such sad eyes,” Benny says. “They were lookin’ at me, all sad, I had to…”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Gonna get fat,” he says, shaking his head and looking down at the line of cats. “Don’t give them anything else,” Sam says. “No bacon, sausage, anything. You’ll make them sick.”

“Course,” Benny says.

Sam kisses him quickly and goes to clean up and change.

When he gets back, the cats are strangely persistent in following him–and his food–to the table, and Sam is pretty sure Benny fed them regardless. He rolls his eyes and resolutely keeps his plate away from them. He scratches his hand over Muffin’s fur, where she curls up in his lap, and uses one bare foot to rub across Peanut’s back, and eats with his free hand.

He can see the smile on Benny’s face, the smile Benny gets when Sam interacts with the cats, but he doesn’t call him on it. Benny has one on his shoulders, one in his lap, one cradled in his arms, and two more at his legs, and it’s kind of cute, really. 

The cats abandon them once the food is all gone, as usual, off to wreck whatever havok they’re planning on causing today. But that’s okay, because it leaves Sam and Benny to wash dishes together, bumping hips side by side, not having to worry about stepping on any cats as they move around the room.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam looks around. “Benny!” he shouts.

“What?” Benny calls back, voice muffled as it echoes down the hallway from the kitchen.

“Come here,” Sam insists.

Sam can’t hear Benny’s huff but can imagine it. It takes Benny a few minutes to reach him, and when he does, he stands there, arms crossed. “What is it? I’m halfway through risotto.”

Sam points to the cats playing in the library. They have fake mice and little jingly balls and a scratching post set up, although most of them are more entertained by scrap paper Sam balled up and tossed for them earlier. “There’s eight,” Sam says.

“Huh?” Benny asks.

“Eight,” Sam repeats. “As in, one too many. We only had seven cats last night, Benny.”

Sam can immediately spot the new one. It’s solid black, not as well-kept as the others, skinny but long. It seems shy of the others, although it is playing instead of hiding or some other such thing, so Sam supposes it can’t be too shy.

Benny’s eyes latch onto the new cat immediately too, only he looks knowing and guilty, instead of curious, like Sam is. “What did you do?” Sam asks.

“Nothin’,” Benny protests.

Sam just raises an eyebrow in challenge.

Benny caves with a sigh. “I’ve been leavin’ food out again,” he admits. “An’ this poor fella obviously had no where else to go. He needs some love, Sam.”

Sam sighs, and wonders why they have to provide love to eight cats themselves. Then again, the new guy is kind of cute, even if he still is too thin.

“You can’t keep adopting cats,” Sam says as sternly as he can manage. “We can’t take care of them all.”

“We do jus’ fine,” Benny argues.

Sam sighs again. “No more, Benny,” he insists.

Benny lights up. “Mean we can keep him?”

“What’s his name?” Sam asks.

“Licorice, of course,” Benny says.

Sam sighs and bends down, offering his hand to the cat. Licorice comes over for a sniff, slow about it, but he doesn’t back away. “No more,” Sam says firmly.

Benny makes promises. Sam knows full well they won’t be kept, but he’s too busy petting the cat to argue the point.


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

“Coco Puff?” Benny calls. “Coco?”

Sam looks up from his book. “What’s up?”

Benny’s face is marred by panic. “Can’t find Coco,” he says, looking under the table, then the couch. “He wasn’t at breakfast, hasn’t showed up for dinner, either.”

“Are you sure you didn’t miscount?” Sam asks. “There are so many of them, it’s easy to miss one.”

Benny looks up from the space under the bookcase and glares, and Sam immediately feels bad. “I know my cats,” he says lowly. “And I know Coco Puff hasn’t been around all day.”

Coco Puff is one of the new kittens (Sam is now insisting in spaying any pets they have in the Bunker, after the last round of kittens), and he’s a tiny little guy. Easy to miss, really.

Nevertheless, Sam abandons his book and gets up to start looking for the cat. “Coco Puff?” he calls, feeling ridiculous and doing it nonetheless. For Benny, he tells himself. And for the cats, all of whom he does sort of like, even if he doesn’t often admit it.

They check every single room in the Bunker–which is a long and exhausting task–looking under beds and inside closets, under tables and in cabinets. They check all the tight spaces and Sam even looks inside the vents. Benny walks around outside, calling for the cat for forty-five minutes, but they get nowhere.

Finally, they are forced to admit that Coco Puff isn’t there, and they collapse onto the couch, exhausted and defeated. Benny bites his lower lip. “What if he’s gone?” he says. “What if he’s hurt? How’d we lose him, Sam?”

Sam honestly doesn’t know, because they don’t let the cats out–not so much a secure secret Bunker if it has a cat flap–and, while it’s impossible to supervise the whole motley collection of creatures, they are careful of their pets. Benny is a great pet owner, and Sam tries his best to help out.

Sam just holds Benny and fervently hopes the little ball of fluff shows back up.

After what seems like hours, they hear feet stomping on the stairs, Dean coming up from the garage, clearly having finally gotten home.

Dean walks straight to them, and holds out his hands. It takes Sam a moment to process what he’s seeing. “This thing yours?” Dean asks. “It snuck along in my car today.”

Benny snatches at Coco Puff, the little things meowing plaintively and curling up to Benny. “Thank God you’re okay,” Benny mutters, petting the little kitten.

Sam heaves a sigh of relief. Crisis averted, he supposes, although now he’s going to have to listen to Dean make fun of him for days about worrying so much for a cat.

He looks back over at Benny, still carefully holding the little kitten, dwarfed in Benny’s big hands, and decides it’s all more than worth it.


End file.
